


That Open Window

by AAAStarboyAAA



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Chapter 1, It's So Underrated, M/M, Nezumi PoV, also fuck the police, anyway yes i just really like this show, chapter one tho, look at these gay ass 12 year olds, may i offer you some tender yearning in these trying times, nezumi gets hug and he cri, shion is such a rich kid i cannot, this is so on brand for me, yeah i've read the whole thing i just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAAStarboyAAA/pseuds/AAAStarboyAAA
Summary: Chapter one but extra self indulgentI mean,,, yeah. That's it that's what it is I just wanted some baby gays smh, only rated teen because half of nezumi's vocabulary is 'fuck'Shion: No offense but you're like,,, babyNezumi:...one day i will simply go ham and you will never hear from me againShion: how'd you get into chronos it's for science
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 26





	That Open Window

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy this fandom is d e a d  
> also writing this as a shion cosplayer lmao  
> I just,,, I cannot express,,, these gay motherfuckers,,, these absolute children,,, this fucking rich kid and sewer rat  
> love them  
> i love them
> 
> (also damn twelve year old rat was such an idiot omg he's like "I AM THE STORM FITE ME I AM SO EMO" and shion's like "oh cool")

That Open Window  
(Nezumi POV because i feel yearning in the chilis tonight)

This city was hell.

A shining, glittering hell, as my bare feet slapped against the wet pavement, lurching forward with dark red spilling from the shoulder I clutched with a shivering, tensed hand.  
Bars, shadow, shattering pain assaulted my head as my heart beat like a drum, the same beat my feet cut themselves hitting, dread and helplessness and turning to see if I was followed, again, again, jumping at every sound.

I had nothing for me, nothing with me, nothing but the prison hospital gown made of barely more than plastic covering not nearly enough in the biting wind. Nothing to defend myself with, not a knife or a bar or even a stick, nothing to anchor me to the world.

It was cold, so cold as I leapt over a fence slashing myself in my clumsiness, and climbed into the higher level of the city, the erratic shots and shouts of the police fading away. And as I did, my breathing grew shallower, the adrenaline of the pace wearing down as everything dissipated into silence.

The darkened sky poured down upon the world- cold, hard rain that hurt when it hit you- and thunder dared to thrash the skies. And in the midst of the city I could see the wall at every horizon, tall and grey and looming, holding me in, holding the earth out.

Chronos, I could tell because everything was labeled like these people had never walked their own domains, clearly the most elite district in the elite city. I limped alone amongst glowing mansions, struggling to stay away from the ever watching eye of the cameras at every corner.

I fought to keep my eyes open, the injury on my upper arm spreading a sickening ache deep into my strained muscle. And on the dark streets, I had nowhere to go, I was completely lost.

Lost in this place with barely anything as much as a tree, my wings clipped, my home lost, my people burned.

I was scarred from head to toe when on a body so young skin should be soft and unmarred. At my shoulders wetly hung an unevenly chopped swath of dark hair, my treasured long hair had been grabbed in one forceful hand and separated from my skull half burned already, leaving that discolored skin under the back of my poorly tied tunic out for the world to see how I’d paid for what I was.

Nature was no longer a friend, when I’d lived happily in it my whole life- so alone, in this city where it was held down and abused. 

Held down by clamps of metal and plastic, boxed and clipped and made uniform, I felt for it, the offending substance of green as it was supposed to be held away from the upper class’s sensitive eyes. 

There were lights in some windows, but they were all locked, all the doors closed, all the options gone.

I was unwelcome here.

I was barefoot and shivering and the security would stop me from taking shelter perhaps in a shed, the balcony of someone’s home, a porch.

I couldn’t move forward, I couldn’t.

Scarred and hardened and standing in loose, ill fitting filthy white, only trying to escape from this city where they wanted me nothing but harm.

If I was seen, I’d be caught, if I wasn’t, I would likely pass out here. I could be seen, I could be tracked, I was lost in a sea of rejecting houses, held tight in their brightness.

Alone with no one to follow, no one to show me where I could go, no one to hold me, carry me, take me home.

An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness set in, despair tinged in cold, aching pain.

My skin was slick from rain, my black hair slamped against my forehead, slate colored eyes swollen and shadowed. I was tired beyond belief, my feet slowing and stopping and legs aching standing, shaking with every second I stood up. I had no thought left to even consider my stomach’s yearning chasm, the pains that ran through every part of my body.

And I alone stood of my kind, I alone stuck out in deep, seeping red, marked for the kill, in the heart of the lion’s den.

I was so close to falling on the foot of a spotless house and giving into oblivion, when out of nowhere I heard a loud, childish scream.

Not a scream like the ones I was used to, but one from someone completely unpained, a kind of simply frustrated release of chaos, almost humorous.

Up in the dark grey sky, on a balcony near the place I waveringly balanced, clinging to the ledge of a building not built for humans to stand upon, only I small, agile, beaten into strength enough to hold myself on. A large, well built balcony, undoubtedly the property of someone obscenely rich.

But when I lifted my eyes to the heavens, I found the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, right there, right then-

An open window.

Welcoming and bright and like a blinding beacon of hope in a hot bed of pain, the window onto safety, light against the storm warm and soft and beckoning like nothing I’d ever seen.

On that rooftop was the most unexpected thing of all to show up. A child, probably only my own age, gripping the bars of the balcony and screaming, for it seemed no reason at all other than… because he was a kid. He probably thought the storm was cool, because he’d never been made to weather it without something over his head.

And I looked up, from that shadow on the ground and my eyes widened, nearly falling to my knees as I saw it.

_An open window._

It was a child, I could manage him. All I’d have to do was get myself in through that window and intimidate the boy, all I had to do was lay down somewhere safe and manage the night.

Ignoring the pain I struggled up the side of the fire escape, overestimating how far I could jump so disoriented and broken. I spent all my strength pulling myself over the edge and collapsing onto the now empty balcony, the sliding door still transparent, left open.

It would close automatically, I knew, before too long, and yet I knew he’d been knowing in his folly, left it open deliberately.

For the storm.

To let the storm in.

And I staggered to my feet, soaking, dripping blood and rain indiscriminately beneath me, placing a bare foot from hard concrete to soft carpet, marring it with my presence.  
Looking ahead with a combative stance, eyes lidded and hard, in the shadow of the storm, a child of that sky, made of violet and grey, torn dark cloud and raw energy and anger at humanity.

Smiling, at the boy’s simple stupidity, the heavy curtains flapping in the wind.

The rain stopped falling on my head but there in that darkened bedroom I felt myself now the rain itself, defensive, pained, dripping dark spots onto the floor, cold water mixing in streaks with dirt and blood. And the boy was unsuspecting of what he’d let in, turned to the opposite side.

It took him a second to stop his work and notice me, finally looking up, his eyes widening in surprise.

He was a rich kid, even if he was my age. He was a resident of No. 6, of Chronos. He was probably a law abiding citizen who knew nothing but how the police helped people or whatever, he’d probably only been raised that way. There was no other way for them to be raised. Even if he didn’t know I was wanted, I looked poor, I looked native, I looked like an enemy.

I would have to attack him, though I was a small child in a hospital gown dressed in blood, threaten him until he let me stay.

Not for long, I just…

It was desperate though I felt malicious triumph, fueled by pure adrenaline, staring into his wide brown eyes and seeing the communication device so threateningly close in his hand. 

Leaping forward in attack and grasping a fast hold on his neck with the hand unattached to a wounded arm, gripping it as tight as I could in my slippery, small hands and throwing him into the wall with all my force.

“Don’t move,” I said with the lowest voice I could manage, eyes calculating and hard, refusing to open up any pathways that could empathize with an elite.

He was my enemy, that was something that would always be true.

“What- how-”

“You left the window open, boy. So the storm came in.”

But I was still barely twelve, shorter than him, malnourished and shaggy and as thin as a twig, and if he wasn’t a useless blob like the rest of the city’s inhabitants I’d have no chance against him.

The boy gripped my arm but failed to move it, even in pain it wasn’t hard to hold him down, this child with soft brown hair in clean, warm clothing, that I stared at in ruthless, icy malice.

From his gasping mouth came a choked plea, strained.

“I… can treat your wound… you’re hurt, right?”

I did not move, expression still stone, hand clenched tight around him.

“I know first aid. First aid, do you understand?”

I was used to people seeing me that way, the world against me. Of course I knew the words he spoke, my native language was no longer one that existed, no one left to speak it, to give voice to its songs but me.

I faltered, but at that second I sprung back on him as a sudden noise came from the screen in the wall, a woman’s voice.

“Shion? Your window’s open, isn’t it? Close it or you’ll catch a cold.”

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the boy’s neck harder, desperate to stop him from crying for help.

But.

He didn’t.

“Uh… yeah, it is,” he said, voice wavering, staring directly into my wavering eyes trying with all my might to say _if you call out I’ll kill you._ “Sorry.”

“Come down for dinner, will you? It’s getting cold.”

I did not let off of him, my heart beating so fast, riding on nothing but my bare, weak, shaking hands to keep me alive.

“Um- I’ve got a b... book report to do, I’ll come down and get it later-”

He closed the communication.

And I could hold him no more, my hand loosening, falling to my knees and curling up against my shoulder desperately.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” I said flatly, a weak threat, as uncertainly the kid fell and rushed for his desk, pulling out a-

First aid kit.

When I’d tensed up and prepared for something sharp, even a pencil-

He was actually going to try to bandage me.

The boy blinked and kneeled down, as the loose, dirt-stained hospital gown fell from my shoulder, soaked and cold. From my ripped wound still flowed hot blood, sending shivers of pain through me I tried to refuse, too tired to try to conceal my weakness any longer.

“Is that… a bullet wound?!”

Tensely, I answered. “No, it’s a fucking mosquito bite.”

Clearly, he’d never heard a swear in his life, and he’d never seen so much blood either.

“It just grazed me, the bullet’s gone.”

His face quickly drew into an exaggerated motion of shock, more emotion than I was aware a face could show. “What?! I’ve only ever seen those in textbooks, no one in No. 6 would ever shoot a gun at someone else, that’s illegal?!”

I smiled, darkly, blood smearing across my hand. He was sheltered, his eyes bright, clothes new, soft and clueless. 

_Hey boy, your precious holy city commits genocide._

“There are those that hunt and those who are hunted,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

_Fire, searing through the grass, the trees that had been far above my head for my whole life fallen and torn and burned to the ground, screaming and shouting and running and shooting-_

It was to be one or the other.

There was no in between.

So the prey would make itself into a predator.

“What are you saying?” the boy Shion asked, head tilting to the side.

“It’s better you don’t know,” I said, and I meant it. Better to let him believe in the place he loved, better he stay the way he was.

He didn’t seem like a bad person, he was only twelve or so, he would only spout whatever he’d been told. He wouldn’t see anything wrong until I gave him a reason to. I didn’t. If he was dumb enough not to realize what I was, that was his own problem.

But I looked down in curiosity and jumped back in shock, at the sight of that sharp, shining needle.

“Wh- what is that?!”

“Anesthetic,” Shion smiled, “I need to sew you up!" His face was so innocent and kind, meaning no malice. 

I didn’t trust it.

“Don’t get that thing anywhere near me,” I scuttled back, struggling. “You’re a kid, do you even know how to do stitches?!”

“I’ve studied the theory,” he said, and it didn’t make me feel better.

“I don’t care if you’re some chronos elite. I’m not letting you experiment on me,” I spat at him, defensive, always on edge.

I’d seen the inside of that correctional facility. I knew what they wanted with me. I wouldn’t let them. I wouldn’t let them have me-

“Then how do you want me to help?” he asked, holding out his hands.

...This was unexpected.

I assumed he’d only said he’d help to get my hand off his neck, he’d only gotten out that kit to make me believe him but he…

Surely, he couldn’t be smart enough to try to bluff this hard.

I stared at him, calculating, my narrow eyes locked on his, wide and brown.

“You’re kinda weird, you know that, right?” Shion asked, blinking at me. “You haven’t even asked my name.”

“It’s Shion, right?” I said, uninterested. “Like the flower? I heard it from your mother. I think it’s weird you haven’t asked mine.”

I didn’t want him to anyway. It would mean he felt entitled to information about me.

He was strangely calm about it all, though, a random injured stranger breaking into his lovely little rich kid bedroom and attacking him, dripping blood on the carpet- and he was acting all buddy buddy with me, just kneeling on the floor next to me and smiling. Asking no questions, assuming nothing.

Maybe we were both odd.

“Oh yeah, what is it?”

I glanced to the side, biting my lip. Hnn… it wouldn’t matter if I said it, I had long since lost a last name.

“Nezumi.”

“Like… a rat? That doesn’t sound right,” Shion laughed, and of course he did. I stared at him, with my mouth a hard line.

And I decided I could trust him.

He was odd, innocent, well intentioned. It seemed as if he actually planned on helping me. I didn’t have many choices. I looked into his brown eyes and his rosy cheeks pulled his mouth slightly open. He had been made so perfect by means of his city’s violence, but… he had not been the one to perpetrate it, surely. Right? ...Right?

...was no in between. No in between. No

“What?” I asked. “Stop staring at me.”

Was I that much of a freak he’d be so mesmerized by gaping at me, viewing me in all my half dead sewer rat glory?

And he blinked, audibly, shaking his head and laughing nervously, blushing. “Alright, well, let’s get you stitched up. Are you sure you don’t want the anesthetic?”

“I don’t need it,” I said automatically, but the second the needle touched the wound I nearly screamed.

He drew back fast, my reaction terrible, and for a second, there was just silence.

I looked down. “Sure, hit me up with that anesthetic.”

Smiling softly, he gratuitously moved the syringe of the fluid a bit below the wound, and I bit my lip hard as it went in, trying to focus on the warmth of his hands.

His hands, amidst the pain, soft and pale, with nothing more than the callus of a pencil, damn bitch was left handed. So was I, but even that was softened on him compared to my little scarred rat hands, he’d never worked a day in his life. Warm, warm, warm and gentle-

It made me feel like crying, as they left my bare arm, numbness and relief spreading up my arm and dulling the feverish wound.

And I held my eyes open the whole time he cleaned it, stacking rags full of blood, and stitched it, meticulous, careful, gentle, picking up gauze and applying it to the area, carefully wrapping it and looking up to smile into my unbelieving, vulnerable face.

“Treatment complete!”

I stared, mildly amused, mildly impressed, trying to be only mildly relieved. Barely smiling.

I couldn’t let him see how thankful I was, how weak that would make me. He’d think that he was all he was obliged to do, he wouldn’t see me as a threat anymore. I’d have to bully him into letting me stay, continuing to give me this, continuing to treat me this nice, I was sure he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t think I’d hurt him if he didn’t. He’d have to be dumber than a fucking rock not for that to be it.

I leaned back onto the bed on his loft, covered with quilts and blankets and sheets, a lamp and a thousand little belongings sitting on the side table.

“This bed looks comfortable,” I said, loudly, voice attempting to project that it wasn’t just a remark. But I was surprised when he barely noticed, dicking around in his drawers again.

“You can borrow it,” he said calmly, “Just make sure you change first.”

I blinked.

And he threw a wad of clothes at me from his drawers, much to my surprise.

Wh.. what?

How?

Why would he be so kind, without question, without payment, without any compensation or pressure at all? No reason or agenda behind the words, like I was another Chronos kid having a sleepover with him.

“You… really don’t mind if I sleep here?” I asked, trying not to sound too surprised and emotional, looking at the clothes in my hands.

A large, full towel, a pair of soft pants, too big for me, and a purple sweater, homemade. It was rather ugly, but who the hell was I to be complaining when in my hands were warm, soft, clean clothes. The weather was thick and insulating, the pants a fuzzy, comfortable fabric.

Jaw clenched, my face grew troubled as I drew my knees to my torso, hugging the fabric sitting in a puddle on the floor.

“Course not,” Shion said, smiling, and something so hard in me broke down. Something that didn’t believe it, something that said he wanted me out, something that said I didn’t deserve to take what he offered, that I couldn’t afford to let my guard down-

It broke, in the most tragic, relieving way.

“Thanks,” I said, voice breaking, and beginning to stop shivering- I smiled.

He blinked, probably surprised that I’d said it, the little combative rat demanding shelter, soaking wet from the storm gutter, he said thank you and god fucking damn it he meant it.

“Alright, I’m going to get dinner- I’ll bring you up some,” he smiled, and I sat there, still so dazed. Suspending disbelief, when he left and I stared at the clothes in my hands and the welcoming bed and the lights that gave a reassuring yellow glow all around me though the room was dark.

This couldn’t truly be real.

I pulled off my heavy, soaked clothes, stained and stinking, and after drying myself with the towel I slipped on the new ones, bit by bit, breaking in the scent of something unfamiliar and sweet, covering my scars one by one, pulling my damp head through the dry purple sweater.

And that second, Shion opened the door, as I turned to see him staring as the sweater fell over my discolored back.

He smiled, and I grimaced back.

What kind of weirdo was he.

“Don’t turn on the lights,” I said quickly, still paranoid. They’d be on the lookout for me. He hesitated as he reached for the panel on the wall, but complied. 

“But I can’t see without them,” he whined.

“You can’t get around in your own room without the lights on? Pathetic,” I smirked. He really was rich, huh. It wasn’t even completely dark out.

He set down a tray of food on the bed, and I just looked at it until he said it was for me, after which I took it as fast as I could before he could change his mind, feral and protective, realizing at the scent of some heavenly spiced thing just how starved I was.

But then his face grew serious, and he looked me in the eyes.

“VC 103221.”

I froze.

Fuck.

Well that was the end of that.

I should have known he’d see a news broadcast. I couldn’t pretend to just be some random feral kid, or even someone not incredibly legal, but a convict, a wanted criminal for ‘violent crimes’.

Immediately I tensed, dropping the spoon, in a jolt of fear assuming a defensive stance, breathing hard-

But he only smiled, and held out a mug of… like… chocolate milk but warm, with… peppermint? And white fluffy stuff?

...Huh?

I relaxed, taking the warm mug in my hands, staring at it like I didn’t know what to do with such a thing. He knew I was a criminal now, he could just assume I likely wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat if I could. But he didn’t. He… was just such a dope he thought I was no threat.

But was I a threat, tucked into the covers of his bed sipping what he called hot chocolate?

“That’s right,” I said, trying to assume as much confidence as possible. “I’m famous, huh? Even better in the flesh, right?”

“Yeah, it was all over the news. No offense, but you’re like… baby. Mind if I ask… what you could have possibly done to get on a wanted list?”

I gave the short answer. “I existed in the wrong place. Illegal, apparently.”

Shion furrowed his brow. “...If you got into this city, doesn’t that make you an illegal immigrant?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I was literally fucking born here. ‘Snot my fault your city can’t handle my raw power.”

It was just deflecting another thoughtless question, so incredibly uninformed I couldn’t respond to it seriously.

“No, I mean… into Chronos. You’re an illegal intruder. Won’t they hunt you down? There’s plenty of security. You can’t escape.” He said it in such a frank way, kind of concerned, actually.

I smirked, biting down on the spoon in my mouth. “Is that so? I got into your oh so elite Chronos. I got into your oh so elite house. I got into your oh so elite bed, I’m a severely injured twelve year old. They should really step up their game.”

Shion looked down. “I don’t think that they really should.” He bit his lip. “If that’s what they’re going to do with it. Chase defenseless kids. Shoot them.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling defenseless, punk-” I shouted, but, damn, well those were not the words I’d expected out of a fucking capitalist like him.

“I never broke into the city, they brought me here.” I narrowed my eyes, and Shion’s widened. 

“What? To the correctional facility? Why?”

“Doesn’t matter. I escaped. Your perfect city- it’s full of holes, just big enough for me.”

Shion looked at me, tone serious. “I never said this was the perfect city.” 

And my eyes grew wide.

“What the hell… you really are odd.” I shook my head. “You’re a sheltered, spoiled rich kid taking college at twelve- and yet. You’re sheltering a blacklisted VC. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you if they find out?”

Eyes still wide and innocent, he nodded. “Oh yeah, it’ll be bad.”

I lashed out at him, so perplexed by the boy “Are you actually just fucking insane?! Be careful! I-” I bit my lip. “Whatever happens to you, it’s nothing to do with me. But you did me a favor, so getting you in trouble would only put me in debt more.” I pointed a finger accusingly.

Shion smiled. “You’re really nice, you know that? Alright, well then, you can help me out if something bad happens to me?”

“What makes you think I won’t be long gone? One day, I will simply go ham, and you will never hear from me again.”

He moved his eyes to the side, pensive and curious. “...How do you plan on getting out? With that violence chip?”

“I broke that thing years ago,” I said, brushing it off. Trying to ignore the fact of how much in debt I was to this fluffy haired child.

“Hey, Nezumi? Can I ask you… how you got into Chronos?” he got on the bed and leaned forward, almost morbidly curious. “It’s for science.” He smiled.

With lidded eyes, I smiled, folding back onto the bed.

(It was so nice. The blankets were insulated so that they retained warmth, but not too hot. The pillows I could arrange around myself, the expensive sheets, the comforting sink of the soft mattress, I wanted to lay there until I died.)

“It’s a secret,” I smirked, placing a small finger to my mouth.

He was persistent. “So you can’t tell? Why not? I promise I won’t snitch. I just wanna know-”

I turned around, amused. “Can you forget something like that once you’ve heard it? No. They can’t torture it out of you if I don’t tell.”

He looked horrified.

“In return, I won’t snitch either.”

“About what?”

I sank back into the mattress, smiling, relishing in the feeling of softness. “Oh. Well. How you let a vc on your bed. How you're speaking sedition 'bout this place, saying they shouldn't kill me," I leaned forward and smirked, slipping a hand under his chin. "How you were screaming at the top of your lungs into the sky like a fucking idiot.”

Shion opened his mouth, but nothing came out, face quickly spreading red like a blush.

“It was funny, really. I was looking up, trying to decide what to do, and you just started hollering, with a face like that…” I snickered.

His face, that small mouth and large eyes, wide and inquisitive, chocolate colored like his lighter hair. It was hard to see past the stubborn innocence, but he was rather cute. It was funny to see him with his face squished up in frustration like that. It was a face it was hard not to trust, as much as I’d been conditioned to flee from every human, a face that I didn’t think I’d get tired of looking at.

Well, hey, if you don’t fall at least a little in love with anyone who’d show you a spark of human kindness, were you even gay?

But my expression hardened as he continued to just sit there with an unfazed face, like it was natural for him to do this.

“You’re really not worried about me? You’re not worried I’m going to slit your throat and disappear into the night?” I asked, combative. “You’re sheltering a VC- you’ve either got to be as dumb as rocks, or smarter and thriftier than me.”

“Well, you’re just a kid like me, you were shot…” he smiled sheepishly. “No, I think it’s ok. I think people should have the right to basic human decency even if they broke the law.” Shion’s tone was nearly apologetic. “Who would refuse you?”

I narrowed my eyes.

That though was a fantasy I’d kill to live in with him.

“You’ve never even seen the real world, have you? You have no idea.” I smiled, almost sympathetic. “You’ve really no clue how your city survives, putting your trust in everything so easily.”

It wasn’t hard at all, when I’d done it so many times.

In a second I reached up, leaping from my spot and throwing the taller boy backwards, face suddenly full of surprise. Relying on the instincts this life had built into me I leapt on top of him, quickly holding down his arms and tightening my legs around his torso, scrambling with my free hand for the spoon on my plate, leaning down on the bed and twisting it violently sideways, pulling the spoon menacingly against his exposed throat.

Leaning down and getting my hair into his eyes, smiling. “If this was a knife, you’d be dead.”

My satisfied smirk stared directly into Shion’s startled eyes, my open mouth brushing against his ear.

He was rendered completely unable to move, suddenly breathing heavily. And with his body pressed into mine, I felt his heart beat fast, everything heightened, his blushing hot face flustered and his eyes wide, taken completely by surprise.

I smirked, having elicited the reaction I wanted, and from Shion’s small mouth came a weak, halting “Wh- whoa…” the cold spoon hard against his neck, our breath mingling. But completely unexpected, his face drew into a surprised smile, fascinated. “Awesome! H- how did you do that, I’m all caught, I feel like my strength has disappeared! Did you hit pressure points or something?”

I…

How could he-

My face drew up into comical disbelief, filled with such immense hilarity I lost every bit of gravity that held us down.

Holding him to the bed, I loosened my grip on the spoon and began to laugh, despite everything, every reason never to smile- And his face, his fucking dumbass expression, I closed my eyes and collapsed on top of him, with a thwump, abandoning any act, in a sudden rash affection and appreciation wrapping my arms around the boy I’d known only for an hour or two.

I could feel my heart beating, slow and calm and steady, and I…

I felt safe. I felt happy. I felt…

...warm.

He was so warm.

When was the last time I’d laid like this? With my arms wrapped around another human being, one who was alive, I didn’t care who- who hugged me back, just even so slightly.  
Shion seemed surprised and tense, I felt his accelerating heartbeat as I lay my ear against his chest. His eyes were wide and his face was hot, and after a stunned second he returned the embrace, arms holding me safe, my hand reaching out and taking hold of his, squeezing it tight.

Waves of heat flowed through me, and I held him closer, consciousness blurring in and out slightly. In the warm darkness, a dumb, content sile drew across my face, the shadows of our bodies curled into each other, the reassuring grip of his hand on mine.

No tears, no conditions, no reason to be alert, all my pain swept away in a dizzying incoherence, barely believing this was real.

Maybe I’d finally died, out there in the cold, and fallen into this delirious, improbable, overwhelmingly happy heaven, this place with warm light where I could rest, where I was crying because some random boy was so goddamn warm.

But no, that was the thing, I knew, half asleep, hearing vague worrying sounds from Shion about my temperature, a fever. I waved him away, saying I’d sleep, no, I was going to sleep, right there, I’d fall asleep before he could have time to tell me to move. 

No, I wasn’t dead, I wasn’t in heaven, I knew if I died that would not be where I’d end up. But I was alive, despite it I was alive, and I felt it with every fiber of my body, every bit of pain and hot and cold and softness. Hearing the soothing muffled roar of the rain from somewhere it did hot hit me, the steady beat of this tiny boy’s heart in sync with mine, my wounds subsided to a dull ache, my clothes so overwhelmingly warm and dry and safe in contrast to everything I’d felt before.

I was alive, I’d chosen to keep fighting, to keep living in this world, and through a thousand miles of darkness... I’d made it here.

Even though I knew I would not be able to stay, even if I knew it was only temporary, I’d likely never see him again, I could be caught if I let my guard down for too long. I’d have to leave this fabled paradise before I could barely blink.

I smiled, for the moment that existed right then, the hand in mine that affirmed me there was a reason to keep going.

“Living people… are so warm…” I muttered, incoherent, and I thought I felt a hand, a forehead pressed against mine, worried and careful and kind.

I fell asleep smiling, holding tight the body of a living boy, his heartbeat in my hand.

And yes, eventually I woke, by the next day’s four am, to the sound of sirens, far in the distance.

Opening my eyes blearily and staring upon Shion’s form.

He had moved, he had extricated himself from me and pulled the blankets over us, but even afterward he’d come back and wrapped his arms around me again, his legs intertwined with mine, my head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Still holding my hand, reassuring, his face now a light, innocent sleep, untroubled and kind to him.

I’d have to leave, or they’d eventually figure out where I was.

Get outside the walls of the city before they could drag me back to the correctional facility, find some garbage dump to hide in.

It was still dark, shadows heavy across the room, as comforting as they were imposing. And through the waving white curtains I had entered from I could see the moon setting, the odd limbo in the sky before dawn broke.

I drew my face into a serious expression, back to the way it had been, my mouth a hard line, eyes narrow, unfitting a child.

I still felt Shion’s steady breath, his chest rising and falling turned in toward me in the night. It softened a little, but I turned away, knowing I had no time to lose.

Still heavy from sleep so much more thorough than I was used to, I wiped my mouth and rubbed my eyes, brushing the grey-black hair out of my vision.

Calculating, I carefully extricated myself from Shion’s grip, even as he made a whining noise and sudden cold air swept in to separate us.

I grimaced, looking about the room.

The ridiculously lavish room, the giant loft and piles of textbooks, the balcony and the windows and the great closet beside lamps, soft carpet spreading across the whole floor, still stained where I’d stepped in.

The bed with the child, abandoned, in it, his mouth open in plea. The empty mugs of hot chocolate next to each other on his bedside table, blankets strewn messily on the floor.  
I bit my lip, pulling my arms around the purple sweater on my shoulders, walking around the room and pocketing a few things, like the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” I said, but I said it not for that, but for the blinking red light on the edge of my vision I looked away from, the security cameras I should have noticed even when I was injured.

He’d get in trouble for me, wouldn’t he.

It didn’t matter, I’d never see him again. I turned around, opening the doors of the balcony, manually.

And it was so cold.

I looked down, and closed the door again. Thinking quick and quickly scurrying up the column to the ceiling, talking the camera and ripping it out of the wall with as much force as I could muster, getting a sharp stab of pain up my shoulder to answer for it.

No, I… I wasn’t just helping this kid for no reason. I…

I grimaced, but I did not cry out, and I did not let myself fall.

I slid down the rail and squinted at the device, that had stopped blinking.

I shoved it in my pocket.

It might be useful.

That’s why I had done it.

But I gripped the side of the window as I looked upon the room, and I felt like my edges had been blunted, my face warped into a conflicted concern, the wind outside somehow now so sharp.

I swiped a blanket from the floor, and I threw it over my shoulder, wrapping around my small form and creating a sort of cloak, billowing out against the wind. It was thick and reliable, and when I brought it to my face, it smelled of him, of this room, that was so kind.

_What?_

It would be cold.

For a long time, it would be cold.

I’d need a little warmth with me.

But… I resolved, in compromise between what I knew and what I felt-

I’d come back one day. Somehow. Some way.

We were on opposite sides, and we always would be, there was not a future where I could be with him. But.

He made me think-

Maybe-

I’d burn this city to the ground, but maybe I’d save him. It was only fair, because he’d saved me.

I kept my honor.

My face was shadowed, and as I stepped out onto the balcony the cold set back in, illusions of safety and comfort fading, makeshift cloak flapping in the requiem of the wind.  
But I smiled, upon Shion’s form, looking upon it for far longer than I should have.

And in the immensity of the storm, a tiny, combative boy with lank dark hair leapt into the darkness, never to be seen again.

Or not.

Leaving with a promise of nothing more than a shimmering red string.


End file.
